


Prefect's Privilege

by flyingcarpet



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: smutty_claus, F/M, Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 00:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingcarpet/pseuds/flyingcarpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a prefect's privilege to take house points when he feels it's appropriate. But even prefects aren't immune to a bit of persuasion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prefect's Privilege

**Author's Note:**

> Written for cimplybe in the 2009 Smutty Claus exchange. The request included Charlie/Tonks and a struggle for dominance, both in the relationship and in bed. I was inspired by Tonks's comment that she was never a prefect because she lacked the ability to behave herself. Thanks to Lyras and Silveronthetree for beta-reading.

The silver badge seemed very heavy where it was pinned to Charlie's chest, and his footsteps sounded loud in the empty hallway. Everyone else was back in their common rooms, sitting around the fire, and he was stuck out here on patrol.

Being a prefect was bloody awful sometimes.

To make matters worse, he'd been assigned to patrol with Morgana Midgen tonight, and she hadn't shown up. A Hufflepuff, blowing off her prefect commitments. The irony wasn't lost on Charlie; he just didn't find it very funny when it meant he was stuck walking the hallways by himself.

As he rounded the corner into the Charms wing, Charlie heard a far-off shout of laughter. The stone hallways distorted the sound and echoed it back and forth from one wall to another. Charlie had a good idea where the noise might be coming from: the empty classroom at the end of the hall, which was sometimes used by the Gobstones Club, and more often by a certain group of sixth-years whose extracurricular activities were less officially sanctioned.

Sure enough, when he neared the end of the hall, Charlie could see a thin ribbon of smoke escaping from beneath the doorway, and hear more laughter from within.

He really, really hated being a prefect sometimes. Like now, when he was forced to be the authority figure, when he'd really rather just look the other way. Who cared what these blighters smoked in their spare time? If it affected their marks, that was their problem. And if not, then Charlie didn't see why it should matter.

But they were out of their common room after hours, and he was a prefect, so he'd have to do something about it. Again.

Charlie sighed and straightened his shoulders, then pulled out his wand.

"_Alohomora_," he whispered, then reached out a hand and opened the door.

Inside, just as he'd suspected, were five giggling Hufflepuffs and a large cloud of smoke.

Charlie cleared his throat and waited until they looked at him.

"Weasley," said Morgana Midgen weakly, "What are you doing here?" as if she didn't know.

Charlie crossed his arms over his chest and leaned one shoulder against the door frame. "I was looking for you, actually," he said, trying his best not to sound like a whiner or a killjoy. "Patrol?"

Nymphadora Tonks, who was sitting closest to the door with her back to Charlie, leaned back so that her heart-shaped face was upside-down and held up a cigarette in one hand. "Want some?"

"No thanks," he said dryly. "You know it's after hours, right?" It'd been past curfew for two hours; there was no way they didn't know.

"It is?" Tonks asked with exaggerated surprise, sending the others into fits of giggles. "We'll just be on our way then, Professor Prefect." On the last two words, she stood and gave a deep bow, her robes gaping open in the front and affording Charlie a view of her breasts, encased in bright pink lace. She wobbled slightly, and then stumbled dramatically to the side as she stood up from the bow, catching herself with one hand on a nearby desk.

Charlie watched as they all got up and gathered their things, then stood aside and held the door open for them as they left the room. "Back to the common room," he said. "Ten points each for being out after hours, Smith, Tonks, Brown, Summerby." He said nothing about the smoke, and took no points from his fellow prefect, thinking that was as light as he could possibly go under the circumstances. If Parkinson had been here, she'd have hauled them all up to the Headmaster's Office, and it would have been a week of detentions and points besides.

Sage Brown grinned and him and punched Charlie on the shoulder in what was probably supposed to be an affectionate way. "Thanks, Weasley," he said.

"I don't care what they say about Gryffindors," Tonks declared loudly. She pressed up against him, her breasts pressing firmly against his chest, and gave him a loud, wet kiss that landed right at the corner of his lips. "You're not all bad."

Midgen stayed behind, looking a bit embarrassed. "Thanks, Weasley," she said. "I owe you one."

"Yeah," Charlie agreed, but his irritation was gone. All he could think about was the sensation of Tonks's curvy body pressed against his own, the sight of her breasts in that pink lace, the feel of her mouth against his own. He licked his lips absently, tasting berry-flavored lip balm and the residue of smoke, and felt a bit lightheaded.

\----------

Charlie took to haunting the Charms corridor on the left-hand side on his regular prefect rounds, although he wouldn't admit to himself that he was hoping for a repeat of that night. However, the Hufflepuffs seemed to have moved on.

After rounds one night, he'd parted ways with Primrose Parkinson and was heading back toward Gryffindor Tower when he heard footsteps. Turning, he saw a figure walking down the hall toward him, robe open down the front to reveal a skirt that was far shorter than the required uniform length, and about a mile of long, bare legs in hypnotic motion.

"Out after hours again, Tonks?" he asked.

"What are you gonna do about it, Weasley?" she asked.

"I could take points from Hufflepuff," Charlie said.

"Bet you won't," she countered.

"Oh yeah?" he asked. "Twenty points from--"

Tonks stepped right up to him and captured his mouth with her own, cutting off his words with a sloppy kiss. A moment later, her body stumbled into his, forcing him to stagger backwards until his back was against the wall and he'd grabbed her waist with one arm.

In Charlie's experience, most witches had a strict programme of events for interactions such as these, building from shy looks to dry kisses and then slowly through a logical progression up to touching and tasting. Not Tonks.

She kissed him forcefully, thoroughly, with very little respect for the ordinary way of things. Without so much as a by-your-leave, her hands raked down his chest, fingernails scraping over his chest and tweaking his nipples. Her hips ground into his, soft curves grinding against him so that all the blood drained from his head and he was hard in a second.

Reaching up, Tonks dug the fingers of one hand into Charlie's hair, pulled just slightly and bent his head down to hers. She broke their kiss and sucked hungrily at his neck, making him groan softly in response. Cautiously, still afraid that the regular rules might apply, Charlie lowered his hand from her waist down to cup her arse, pulling her firmly against him and angling his hips to thrust against her belly.

He was more aroused than he'd been in a dozen furtive snogging sessions with other witches, girls who predictably allowed him one small advance each evening, all in a neat ordered sequence. Tonks's round breasts pressed against his chest, and he raised his other hand to grasp one, finding her nipple taut against his thumb. Just as his fingers reached the edge of her blouse, ready to peel it back and reveal that pink lace that had haunted his dreams, Tonks pressed her lips to his earlobe.

"Told you," she said, her hot breath brushing over his ear and sending shivers down his neck.

While his befuddled brain was still attempting to process this comment, she pulled back and danced away. Instinctively, Charlie grasped at her with his now-empty hands, reaching to pull her back again, but she skipped off down the hall, laughing. "See you next time, Weasley," she said as she disappeared around the corner.

Charlie knocked his head back against the stone wall, trying to figure out what had just happened. All the blood in his body was pooled in his throbbing erection, not leaving much for consideration of the female mind.

Points. Fuck.

Charlie didn't have it in him to care about points anymore. He hastily unbuttoned his trousers and thrust one hand inside, biting his lip to keep from crying out as he brought himself off in three quick strokes.

Afterward, he let his knees collapse and his body slide to the floor. His pulse pounded in his veins and his breath scraped raggedly over his throat, but otherwise the castle was quiet and still around him.

\----------

Between lessons, Charlie often saw Tonks in the hallway, and twice a week they shared an Advanced Transfiguration class. The day after their hallway encounter, Charlie slid down in his chair, hunching his shoulders and hoping that his carefully-draped Gryffindor scarf would hide what two disguise spells and several healing charms had failed to cover up: a vivid love bite high on his neck, just below the ear.

As soon as he'd spotted the red and purple blotch in the bathroom mirror, Charlie knew that it had been intentional. Tonks had marked him on purpose, just to prove she could. And like a dope, Charlie had stood back and let her do it.

She rushed into class late, as usual, and dropped into the last available chair, two rows in front of Charlie. As Professor McGonagall began to speak, Tonks glanced over her shoulder at him and winked.

Charlie licked his lips slowly and bit down on his lower lip, watching as Tonks's eyes dropped to his mouth and stayed firmly there, even as the Professor called her name.

"Miss Tonks!" Professor McGonagall said sharply, rapping the desk in front of Tonks sharply with her wand. Tonks jerked around to face the front of the classroom, as if startled to realize that the Professor was there. "If this class is not convenient to your extensive social schedule, I suggest that you see your Head of House about dropping it. Until that time, please do try to pay attention."

Charlie smiled to himself as his classmates snickered. After being left high and dry, he wanted revenge, and Tonks had just shown him a major weakness. She was enjoying the game too much to be able to quit while she was ahead, and that meant that Charlie would have a chance to score some points of his own.

\----------

A detailed plan wouldn't work, Charlie knew. Not that he wasn't a good planner; his Quidditch tactics were the envy of the entire school and had already won Gryffindor three House Cups, with another nearly guaranteed at this point. But Quidditch was not the issue here, and if he'd learned one thing in his sixth year, it was that witches couldn't just be grabbed like a Snitch. That kind of thinking created problems, to say the least.

What he needed was a _strategy_. A solid but flexible approach to the problem that would show that pesky Hufflepuff just who she was dealing with and finally give Charlie some satisfaction.

It was hard to think logically and strategically, though, when he kept getting distracted.

It wasn't his fault, Charlie told himself. He was a teenage bloke; everything turned him on. Once he'd got so hard in herbology class that he'd had to leave the greenhouse. But Tonks was different. Suddenly, instead of a string of lascivious images, a variety of everything from Celestina Warbeck or the prefect's bath mermaid to Venus Flytraps, Charlie was stuck with one witch. Tonks. Over and over again, all he could think about was Tonks's lush mouth, her round breasts wrapped in pink lace, sinking balls-deep into her warm-- no. _Focus, Weasley. You will win this._

\----------

Charlie finally got his chance late one Tuesday night. Prefect rounds were long over, and in fact he had not even been scheduled to patrol that evening. Still, he was near the Great Hall with his silver badge pinned to his chest, on little more than a vague suspicion.

After yesterday's prefect meeting, Morgana Midgen had pulled him aside and asked to switch patrols with him. She had a Tuesday time slot and was offering to take on Charlie's scheduled Friday patrol, the one time that no one ever wanted. This could only mean that Midgen had plans on Tuesday night, and more than likely those plans involved a certain troublemaking friend of hers.

Sure enough, after only half an hour of waiting in the cold, dark entry hall, Charlie heard a muffled thump and some poorly-concealed laughter. When the door opened a crack and five people began to slip through, Charlie was there with his arms crossed over his chest. A pale beam of moonlight fell through the open door and reflected off his badge.

In the dark, Charlie couldn't tell one figure from another. They stumbled against one another, bumping into the walls and the door. After a moment, one of them must have spotted him, because he heard, "Bugger."

"Whozzere?" one of them asked.

Without answering, Charlie stepped closer to the door and did his best to look intimidating.

"Oh, good," one of the girls said. "S' only Weasley."

"I can still take points, you know," Charlie said, leaning against the wall. "Prefect's privilege."

"Oh, come _on_," one of the boys said.

"I think I can take it from here," another voice said, notably clear and un-slurred. Tonks. "Why don't you lot head back to the common room and I'll discuss this with Weasley, hmm?"

Charlie swallowed. "Yeah, fine," he croaked out. The blood was leaving his head and traveling south as he considered just what that 'discussion' would involve.

The rest of them trooped away, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Once they were gone, Tonks turned to him.

"What do you want, Weasley?"

Want? Oh, Charlie wanted any number of things that Tonks could provide. He tried to speak but found that his throat was too dry to produce any sound.

"I'm sure we can find some kind of... mutually beneficial arrangement," Tonks said, unfastening the top two buttons on her blouse with tantalizing slowness.

"How do I know you'll go through with this... arrangement?" Charlie asked. The memory of her running off and leaving him on the edge of climax was still fresh in his mind.

"Oh, a Hufflepuff keeps her promises," Tonks vowed in a sing-song voice that told Charlie this was some kind of House creed. She waited for Charlie's response, toying with the ends of her yellow and black necktie, brushing them back and forth across her breasts. It seemed to Charlie that his cock was as hard as the stone walls that surrounded them, and throbbing in time to the movement of her tie.

"You'll give me what I want, if I promise not to take points?" Charlie asked. "Is that a deal?"

"It's a deal," she said cheerfully.

Charlie took a deep breath and let it out again very slowly. His nerves steadied, he stepped forward and grabbed Tonks's elbow, steering her into a small room to the side of the entrance hall. It was nothing more than an antechamber, used only for Sortings and other ceremonies where a waiting room was needed, but it would serve Charlie's purposes tonight.

As soon as they stepped into the room, Charlie waved his wand and the door swung shut behind him. Another wave, and a murmured "_Lumos_," and a dim, soft light sprang up inside the room. Surveying the place, Charlie saw that it was just a small, empty room -- stone walls and floor, two doors on opposite walls, and a long, bare table at one end. No beds or soft surfaces suitable for what he had in mind.

Charlie was a Gryffindor, after all -- he would go ahead with his plan regardless of difficult circumstances.

"Well, shall we get to it?" Tonks asked. She dropped to one knee and began to undo Charlie's robes.

"Oh, no," Charlie said, stepping away and leaving her kneeling in the middle of the floor. "I had something else in mind."

"Something else?" she asked, not moving. Her open shirt revealed her round breasts, and they rose and fell with each breath she took. Charlie wanted desperately to bury his face in them, to rut his dick between them until he burst from it. But he was determined to stay in control here.

"You did promise to give me what I want," he pointed out. "And what I want is you, on this table."

For a moment, he thought she would refuse, and he wondered what he would do. He knew he would have to let her go if she insisted, and it would ruin his entire plan for revenge. Fortunately, she rose to her feet instead and made her way to the table. "I did promise," she said, hopping up to sit on the edge of the table and leaning back on her hands.

Charlie followed, walking closer until he was standing between her legs at the edge of the table. Slowly, purposefully, he lowered his head and caught her bottom lip between his teeth, pressing his tongue into her mouth as he slipped one hand inside her open shirt and kneaded her breast.

Tonks made an eager sound in the back of her throat and pressed up against him, and Charlie nearly lost it right there. She was even better than he'd imagined a hundred times on his own, her body warm and moving eagerly against his. She lifted one leg and traced her foot against the back of his knee, and Charlie let himself indulge for one moment, thrusting his erection against her soft inner thigh, only a few layers of cloth separating them.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned out, barely aware that he was speaking aloud at all.

"Is that what you want, then?" Tonks asked, and Charlie wondered how she could possibly sound so perky when he was almost done in. It brought him back to his senses a bit, though, and he pulled away from the kiss.

"That's not all," he told her, tracing the edge of her lacy bra with one finger until he reached the undone Hufflepuff tie that was hanging around her neck. "I want you to beg me for it."

"You think so, eh?" she asked, but Charlie didn't answer.

He pulled the tie slowly off her neck, running the soft silk over her bare skin until she shivered, and then he stepped away. When he was standing on the other side of the table, at her back, he placed one hand on her shoulder and pressed softly until she got the idea and lay back on the table. Looping the tie loosely around her wrists, he knotted the other end firmly to the table leg, so that Tonks was secured in place.

Charlie stepped back to admire his handiwork. Tonks's shirt was open, revealing her round, perky breasts wrapped in pink lace. Her arms were stretched above her head, and her legs lay diagonally across the table. She must've removed her own shoes and socks at some point, because her feet were bare. She squirmed, testing her bonds, and Charlie bit his lip to keep from embarrassing himself.

He rounded the edge of the table, and stood near her feet so that she could see him. Slowly, he undid first his robes and then his shirt, one button at a time, and dropped them on the floor next to Tonks's shoes. He flexed his arms as he did so, showing off a little bit. More than a few witches had told him that his body was his second-best attribute, and he wasn't about to waste any weapon he could wield in this battle.

Once he was partially undressed, he reached out one finger and tickled the sole of Tonks's foot until she squirmed again, rubbing her knees against one another and biting her lip. Encouraged, Charlie used his finger to trace a line up the inside of her leg, taking his time as he progressed up her calf, past the sensitive spot at the back of her knee, and up her thigh. As he passed the hem of her skirt, he half-expected to hear some sort of token protest, but none came. Higher, and then higher still he went, until his fingers pressed against a piece of lace.

Her skin was hot, and the lacy fabric was wet to the touch -- soaked through. Charlie dipped his finger down into the juncture of her thighs and rubbed in small circles until Tonks let out a gasp. He backed off, then concentrated on that spot again. Pulled away, then pushed closer. And again, and again, until Tonks was breathing heavily and her cheeks were marked with bright pink circles.

"Ready to beg for it yet?" Charlie asked, a bit breathless himself.

"What makes you think I'll beg at all?" Tonks asked. Her words were bold, but the voice she used to deliver them was a little shaky. Charlie hadn't really thought she'd crack yet, so he counted that as a victory and went on.

Climbing further up onto the table, he rested his weight on his knees and then leaned down, pressing a kiss to one of Tonks's knees, and then the other. He heard her breath hitch a little in anticipation, and smiled to himself.

Working his way upward just as he had done with his fingers, Charlie pressed kisses to first one thigh and then the other. As he went, Tonks let her legs fall apart softly, then spread them wider, until finally his face was buried beneath her skirt and her thighs were wrapped around his shoulders.

Charlie tongued her lacy panties, then pressed down more firmly with two fingers on the nub of flesh beneath, and felt her hips jerk in surprise. Entirely conscious of the spectacle he was creating, he slipped Tonks's panties off her hips with his fingers, then grasped them in his teeth and pulled them the rest of the way, stopping around her knees to meet her eyes and give her a wink.

Tonks was panting now, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Her face was flushed and her lips were swollen as if she'd been biting down on them, and her short hair was in disarray. Her legs were spread wide to accommodate him, and her hips writhed in anticipation. Charlie sat back and just admired the spectacle for a moment.

Witches talked, and Charlie knew it better than anyone. He knew his name was scribbled on the wall in the third-floor girls' loo, and he knew what was said about him in the dormitories. Tonks had probably heard all those things from her crazy friends, and it was that reputation as much as Charlie's actual performance that was building that sense of anticipation now. All he had to do was live up to rumor, and he'd win this one for sure.

With that in mind, Charlie dipped his head once more beneath Tonks's skirt, using his tongue and fingers to their best advantage. Tonks's hips bucked and shook beneath him, and he heard her moans growing louder and more frequent. One hand tangled in his hair, alternately pulling the strands to the point of pain, and pushing him more firmly against her body. His own cock was stiff as the table beneath them, and chafed inside the uniform trousers he still wore, but he recited Quidditch statistics in his mind and focused on the thought of victory to put off his own gratification.

Just as Tonks was shoving his face down until he could hardly breathe, Charlie felt her thighs begin to shiver and shake, and heard her voice take on a desperate quality. She babbled and cursed and cried his name, and then her body began to pulse in rhythm. Charlie rode out the wave, tonguing her clit gently until she came down, whimpering softly.

Then, merciless, he began again.

"Holy shit, Weasley," he distinctly heard Tonks say, before she once again began to moan and writhe.

Her peak came quicker this time, driven onwards by the first climax. As Charlie felt her get closer, though, he forced himself to stop and push away.

Resting back on his heels, he wiped his face with one hand. Before him, Tonks was spread across the table like a banquet. Charlie had already been feasting for some time, but he was far from sated.

"Fuck, Weasley, you can't stop now," Tonks said, looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Come on."

She wasn't quite pleading, but Charlie knew it wouldn't take much to get her there.

He unfastened his trousers. Tonks arched her back, and her hardened nipples pressed up into the air, questing.

"Do you want it?" Charlie asked.

"Hell yeah, I want it," she said, with a rough, breathy laugh.

"Do you remember what I want?" Charlie asked.

It took her a moment, but Charlie was inclined to be gracious. He pushed down his trousers and pants, freeing his erection and giving it a couple of strokes, for show. Merlin knew he couldn't get any harder.

Tonks bit down on her bottom lip, and finally raised her eyes to his. There was nothing there but want and desire -- no mischief, no smart responses, no tricks or teases.

"Please," she said softly, all of that want pouring into her voice. "I want you to fuck me, Charlie Weasley, _please_ fuck me. Merlin…"

As Charlie obliged her, as he sank into her tight warmth, he knew with blissful certainty that he had finally gotten the victory he'd been chasing for weeks.

\----------

Less than a week later, Charlie passed by the Charms corridor on his rounds, and heard muffled laughter echoing down the hall. Shaking his head, he made his way down the hall and shoved open the closed door without ceremony.

Inside was a familiar sight: five Hufflepuffs seated on the floor, looking up at him. On their faces were four guilty expressions and one smug, knowing grin.

"Tonks," Charlie said pleasantly. "I thought we discussed this."

"Did we?" she asked, cocking her head to the side as if trying to remember. "Guess you'll have to explain it again."


End file.
